Last Visits
by DarkShadow1
Summary: Dr. lecter and Clarice are caught. Clarice goes back to see him one last time in the Hospital...


  
Clarice picked up her frosty wineglass, and continued to stare out the window to the snowy streets. Her mind was flooded with memories of him, the one man daring enough to tell her everything about herself; and the only one willing to love her.   
After a year of living together, they had finally found them. They had tracked them somehow, possibly from the letter she sent to Ardelia. Possibly it was because they had searched every other country, and finally narrowed it down to the one they were actually in. Either way, Clarice was alone, out of the FBI and wishing to be held by him once more. Looking back into her memory palace, she focused on a memory that pleased her.  
(Fades to memory)  
He looked for a way to trap her, to keep her from coming at him again. He found handcuffs on the nightstand from the night before. He took them and cuffed her to the bed.   
"Now, are you going to be a good girl and obey my wishes?"  
He looked deeply into her eyes, waiting for some sort of response.  
She reluctantly answered, "yes Hannibal, I will. On one condition."  
"And what is that?"  
She looked up at her hands cuffed to the bed and looked back at him. "Un-cuff me, and I will follow all of your commands."  
"Very well Clarice, but I warn you, if you disobey me, I will not go easily on you."  
She smiled, "All right."  
He took the cuffs off of her hands and she messaged her wrists for a second. Looking into his eyes, she sat up. "Command me."  
He pushed her back so she was lying down again and ripped off the remainder of her clothing. Clarice looked at the torn thong and bra, brought her gaze back to Hannibal and smiled.   
"Well Dr. I didn't expect to find you so eager."  
He gave her a sly smile, "my dear, being eager and desire are of the same. How does it make you feel? The fact that I desire just the simple touch of your skin against mine?" Clarice rolled him un-expectantly, pinned him down, and took off his pants slowly with her hands. Her eyes forever on his, she threw them to the other side of the room. Not even a second went by and he was in her mouth. Hannibal let out a moan as she worked him closer and closer to his edge. Clarice sensed he was near his release and left him, going toward the door.  
Gaining composure he got up and grabbed her as she tried to escape the room. He threw her against a wall with great force, but not enough to cause her too much pain. He ran up to her and pinned her arms and legs down with his body. His erection strong and rock hard, he entered her. She gave out a large scream of pleasure as he pumped into her continuously letting his passion and lust for her run his body. Her nails dug into his back, as she felt herself getting closer to her edge. Finally letting go, Clarice screamed his name. Hannibal let out his own orgasm, and they relaxed into each other against the wall.   
(Fades Out)  
She found hot, salty tears streaming down her face. They wouldn't let her see him in the Hospital when he was shot, and they wouldn't let her see him now, mere weeks before they were going to kill him. The thought made her angry with the FBI for tracking them down, and made her even angrier with herself for not being shot instead of him. If she had died, she wouldn't have to live without him. The screaming of the lambs was bad, but the screams of Hannibal when the bullet passed through his flesh were much worse. They haunted her every night, much as Lecter used to be haunted with Mischa's death. The nightmares were something new to overcome, only this time, she didn't have the FBI to fall back on to drown them out in the days. Living with Lecter had made her very wealthy, so much in fact that she didn't have to work anymore. She sometimes wished that she had never known of the finer things in life, because now that she was without him, she found no joy in them. Cooking became something she did on a daily basis, and continued to be just that. She enjoyed it very much in his company, and without him, it held no great joy. When she was cooking for him, she had to make it perfectly because he would have it no other way, and now that she was alone, without him, she made it half-ass and didn't do as good a job as she knew she could. There was no life outside of Ireland. There was no life outside of him.   
She recalled trying to get Ardelia to help her see him. To say that she needed some answers, but she was turned down. She even went as far as to tell her that she was pregnant with his child and needed to tell him before he died.   
"That monster is better off not knowing, and you Clarice, are better off not having that child," came her cold response.   
The memory haunted her dreams most nights. Everyone in the world she once knew turned on her. All she wanted was to be in his cell with him. They put her on trial for insanity, trying to throw her away. The judge didn't see it fit for a (former) FBI Agent to be held accountable for her actions under the "High power drugs she was administered." Drugs, sure, that was what kept her with him. It couldn't have been the fact that she loved him, or that he kept her safe. No, Hannibal the Cannibal Lecter could never love anyone, not in a million years. She was ashamed to be alive, and ashamed to be without him. Her life had gone upside down ever since they were caught.   
The Tabloids went nuts for the scoop. Reporters were swarming her house, watching her every move, and making sure that she wasn't pregnant. The headlines were always the same, always had the same Cannibal theme, always had the same pictures, and physically altered some. One time she picked up a "National Tattler" and saw herself on the cover, bulging from the belly. She looked down at her own stomach, and saw that she wasn't that big yet. The photo added about six more months on her stomach. Hannibal would have made a good father. He would have taught their children everything she wished her father had instilled in her while he was alive. The value of patience, the value of the finer things in life, and the way the world really is, not how is it perceived.   
She never would have thought of her father as anything but a great man before she was with Hannibal. He made her look into her own feelings, and how she was really disappointed about him being gone, leaving her with the cruel world, where no one loved her, and no one cared if she lived or died. Clarice even held a little hatred for her parents. Her mother, for dying before she could have a real grasp on what it was to be a woman, and her father for dying and leaving her with nothing else. In her mind, the only one who really cared about her was Hannibal. Now he was leaving her too. Just like her father, she wouldn't be able to say goodbye.   
"Jack Crawford dangles you in front of me, and I give you a little help. Do you think its because I like to look at you, to imagine how good you would taste Clarice?"  
She gently laughed to herself, Well you know what I taste like now, don't you Dr.   
She lightly brushed her stomach, and looked down to it, smiling, and hurting at the same time. He wasn't there, he would never see their child grow up, he would never be able to hold him or her, he would never be able to look into her eyes when she fed their child…and he would never be able to hold her ever again. The pain was getting unbearable; she needed to see him.   
"Hello?" a very irritated and groggy voice said.  
"Barney, its Clarice Starling."  
His breathing stopped for only a moment, "Why Agent, or should I say Former Agent Starling, how can I help you?" Though he already knew what she was after.  
"I don't mean to bother you at this late an hour, it was just the only way I would be sure to catch you. Look, I need a favor. It's about Hannibal, I mean, Dr. Lecter. Barney, I need to see him." Her voice was shaking and she wasn't sure how he would reply. Surely he had known about everything, and seen the papers.   
He sighed, "Starling, you know I can't help you with that."  
"But you can Barney. You still are his keeper, aren't you?"  
"Yes."  
"I need to see him before they kill him Barney. He has no idea about the child, because they wont give him access to any books or papers."  
"What is it you need me to do Starling?"  
"I need you to get me access to see him, even if it's just for an hour. Ten minutes, I don't care; I just need to see him Barney. I don't mean to sound needy, but they are killing him Barney and I will never see him again."  
He sighed and silence was floating through the air, "Alright Starling. I will do this for you only because you didn't turn me in after my Lecter collection. I will do this only once, and if you get caught there, I had no idea. Do you understand me? You can only see him for an hour and a half. During everyone's lunch break, I'll take it in the office. Come to the hospital at 12:00."  
Smiling, and not letting her voice show it she said, "Thank you Barney. I'll be there."  
Going to her closet, Clarice looked for her best skirt and shirt. She would look presentable for Hannibal, and he will enjoy it to no end, that she was certain.   
Pulling the covers over her body, she laid down to rest, smelling the winter nights air float through her half-open window. The night's air was cold and crisp. She finally drifted to sleep…  
  
Clarice got out of her car, and looked at the hospital. She was a little nervous, not knowing how Hannibal's reaction would be to her and to their child. Holding a small newspaper photo, Clarice walked into the Hospital.   
"Hello Starling. Now he doesn't know you are coming. I decided it would be better not to tell him. You can hang your coat up here, if you'd like."  
"Very well, thank you."  
"Alright Clarice, you know the drill, don't get too close to the cell. He doesn't have glass anymore, since he won't be…alive much longer, they decided just to stick him in a regular cell. He's the last one, past the others."   
She laughed at all of the similarities from Baltimore so long ago. "Alright, thank you Barney."  
The steel bar door opened and she walked in. Walking past all of the cells, she finally reached the last one. The lights were on, but she couldn't see anyone. She looked around the room, frantically, trying to see him.   
"Hannibal?" She managed to whisper.  
Stirring from the corner, behind the table.   
"Hannibal, it's me, Clarice."  
More stirring and she finally saw some eyes. After a few seconds the eyes disappeared and a shadow moved across the cell. She tried to trace it with her eyes, but it was too quick. What had they done to him? Why was he acting this way? This isn't the Hannibal she remembered.   
"Clarice?" a voice called from another cell. She looked away from the cell she was at, and walked to the sound.   
"Clarice, is that you…?"  
Finally reaching the sound, she saw him standing eagerly at the bars. He looked at her as if he had seen a ghost. His maroon eyes were looking her over, and his hand went out to touch her. She gently accepted him, and he traced his hand over her face. Her hand went up and met his, and they looked into each other's eyes for what seemed to be forever.   
"How did you get in here?"  
She smiled at him, "Barney…"  
He pulled her face close to the bars and gave her a simple kiss on the lips. Inhaling her scent, he finally smiled.   
"How are you Hannibal? How are they treating you here…"  
"They treat me as well as they would treat any other criminal. They treat me as well as they did at Baltimore I assure you, only this time, I don't have to be faced with Dr. Chilton. He was removed from this world long ago."  
She winced, "I wish you didn't have to be in here Hannibal. I really do…"  
"And you my dear Clarice, what have you been doing? Still enjoying the better things in life?" he winked.   
She smiled softly, "No Hannibal, no I'm not. They don't bring me joy when you aren't around. Cooking used to be something I did with pride, knowing I would be making it for you to enjoy. Not only myself. Now I look around my desolate house, and realize the only one I'm cooking for is myself." She looked down at her stomach, "But not for long."  
Pretending to be puzzled by her remark he questioned, "What do you mean 'not for long'?"  
Clarice gently rubbed her stomach; "I'm pregnant Hannibal."  
His eyes didn't go wide as she had expected and he didn't act at all surprised, instead he looked completely content and aware. He ran his hand down her face, across her breasts and to her stomach, resting there and keeping his eyes focused on hers.   
"You will make a wonderful mother Clarice. Give me this one thing I ask…"  
She was silent, waiting for him to continue, knowing he knew that she would do whatever he asked.   
"Teach the child of the better things in life. Teach him or her of patience and respect. Teach them to never look down upon themselves no matter how the world looks at them. Teach them what it is to be truly happy Clarice."  
She sighed, "I will Hannibal. Keep this," she pulled the picture from her purse, "keep this with you, at least. So you know I'm never far…"  
"I will keep it my dear, but I don't need it as a reminder that you are always thinking of me."  
Biting her lip, she tried desperately not to cry. He would not see her cry, not on their last meeting of his life. She had to be strong. Biting so hard to restrain the tears, her lip began to bleed, spilling out and down her chin. She wiped it away quickly. He looked at her, and held his hand back out to her, "there is no reason for tears Clarice. I may not be with you, but you will care for our child. That is enough to be joyous about. Now calm yourself." It was more of a demand than a comforting word.   
Clarice looked at her watch, and saw she only had two minutes left. The look in her eyes was enough to tell him. He took her face in his hands once more and smiled at her, "It will be alright Clarice. I always told you some of our stars were the same. It was a beauty living with you, my dear you were a good student, very patient and understanding. Instill that in our child."  
Moisture glistened in her eyes "I love you."  
Kissing her once, and for the last time, he whispered, "I love you too…"  
  
Hannibal's execution date came, and all she could do was look out her window, up at the starry night's sky. "Some of our stars are the same…" it ran through her head over and over again. Looking back at her clock, she saw it was only a few minutes until his death. Eyes glistening with unshed tears she still looked at the sky. She heard the small beep of the clock, telling her the hour had changed. He was dead. It was over.   
Looking down at her now bulging stomach, she smiled.   
  
"With new death, springs new life."   
  
Letting a single tear fall from her eye, she walked away from the window, finally laying her pain to rest.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
